


Alright

by Televa



Category: Reservoir Dogs (1992)
Genre: Blood and Injury, Canon-Typical Violence, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Nightmares, Post-Canon, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Serious Injuries
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-02
Updated: 2021-02-02
Packaged: 2021-03-13 01:22:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29145141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Televa/pseuds/Televa
Summary: It has been years since the diamond heist and nobody has found them yet. Probably never will, he's almost certain of it, but fearing for the worst is always easier than believing in the best.
Relationships: Mr. Orange/Mr. White (Reservoir Dogs)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 24





	Alright

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guess who's in that point of the pandemic where they're relying on comfort fandoms.
> 
> It's a shame I've never written about Res Dogs before as it has been one of those movies/fandoms that have just Stuck with me since day one.

_There's blood everywhere he looks and touches, can smell it all around him, can taste it in his mouth. The house they broke into is almost dead silent, the distant humming of the frigde two rooms over giving him company as he tries to keep the man in his lap alive._

_There shouldn't be this much blood, he thinks, tries desperately to keep the wound clean and any possible pressure off but it doesn't stop Freddy from whimpering in agony. Larry's heart is seconds to breaking._

_"Hey, I think this is it," Freddy says, his voice unnervingly husky and way too soft. "You gotta let me go man."_

_Larry shakes his head. "Shut up kid, you're gonna be alright, just focus on breathing. Yeah, just like that."_

_Where the fuck was everybody anyway, they were supposed to be hear ages ago! Dread settles into Larry's stomach as he listens a police car pass nearby, the sirens wailing loudly. The cacophony is almost painful, but then, just like it started, the noise drifts away and Larry lets out a deep breath._

_He makes the only mistake never to be done and lets his guard down as Freddy shivers and scrrams. There's no time to do anything as the front door is kicked down followed by a ruckus of footsteps and shouts and screams, and before Larry has time to reach for his guns, two gunshots ring the air and--_

"Freddy!" Larry shouts and bolts up. His back is sweaty and his feet cold and the heartbeat in his chest so loud it could wake up the dead. Larry nearly startles down from the bed as a hand touches his thigh. For a moment he is certain he did wake up the dead until a very sleepy, incoherent voice asks, "Whsthmtr?"

Freddy's hair is tousled in every possible direction and there are bags under his closed as he sits up. "What's the matter?" he asks again, this time clearer and with more worry as he's slowly waking up to reality.

A piece of him wants to look at Freddy's stomach to make sure there's nothing there, no blood or any kind of wounds to be taken care of. Instead Larry keeps his hands in his lap and focuses to calm down and not to think of the actual scar marring Freddy's abdomen like an ill remembrance of a life left behind a long, long time ago. The hand on his thigh anchors him back to the real world and breathing becomes just a bit easier again. 

"Wanna talk about it?" Freddy asks, moves closer. He's fully awake now, his features barely visible in the dim light filtering through the bedroom's shutters. The midwinter cold creeps inside the room making goosebumps run through his hands, the skin of his back, his neck and shoulders. He wants to stand up, smoke a cigarette or two and forget none of this ever happened.

Instead he keeps still. 

"It was nothing," Larry says after a while and lets Freddy pull him back under the covers. "Just the usual, you dying in my arms again."

It's much warmer under the covers with Freddy immediately snuggling against him, using Larry's chest as a pillow, arm casually thrown over his stomach. They settle like that, tightly pressed together like a goddamn pair of newlyweds with a bright future ahead of themselves. It would be sickening had they not found themselves in this exact position almost every evening. Holding Freddy was as easy as breathing, Larry had noticed, the lad basically craving to be touched with gentleness. Larry was happy to oblige, needing to touch just as much. 

"We're gonna be just fine sweetheart," Freddy mumbles. He's falling back to sleep already, strands of dirty blond hair falling on his face as he begins to snore lightly.

It has been years since the diamond heist and nobody has found them yet. Probably never will, he's almost certain of it, but fearing for the worst is always easier than believing in the best. But, the bridge had been lit on fire and they had jumped and there was nothing to be done about it at this point, so Larry sets it aside and focuses on listening to Freddy's snoring instead.

They had jumped and all there was to do was keeping on swimming.


End file.
